Company
by mysticmelodies1
Summary: A little ficlet for Kincade and M. (Don't misunderstand, I still ship Bond/M, but Kincade's crush on M was so cute, I thought it deserved a fic.)


"Thank you," she smiled, taking the bag from the salesgirl.

Kincade put his arm around her and led her out of the shop, back to the car. "I didn't realize how much you liked chocolate, Emma."

She smiled up at him with a slight chuckle. She always thought it was adorable the way he called her Emma. She never did have the heart to correct him. She could tell he was smitten with her from the start.

"Well I don't have much of a sweet tooth normally, but James has apparently developed one over the years. He used to steal truffles from my desk on occasion. Either he thought I wouldn't notice, or just didn't care if I did."

She got in on the passenger's side and buckled her seatbelt, reaching back to put the bag in the backseat. She had her seat warmer on and didn't want them to melt.

Kincade chuckled. "Always been a mischievous lad. Got it from his father, I think."

He started the car and swiftly pulled out of the car park, determined to get them home quickly. He knew with Emma being under the radar, as it were, there was little chance of them running into anyone dangerous, but he was always very careful to have her home before nightfall. He didn't want to risk it.

He'd grown to care for her. He'd grown to care for her a lot, even with all the secrecy surrounding her. They took him in for some sort of evaluation, or so they called it, after Skyfall, and he learned that she did something very important… a government job he gathered, but he still wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what she did. He figured he wasn't supposed to know- that it was in his best interest if the larger pieces of the puzzle were kept from him. He knew she wasn't permitted to tell him either way, so he didn't ask, but as far as he was concerned, he knew everything he really needed to know. She was a lovely woman who believed in working for what she had. It was just a bonus that she happened to be very beautiful, and he counted himself lucky to be able to spend so much time with her. He didn't take her for the type of woman that really needed looking after as Mr. Mallory had suggested, but he did it just the same.

After what happened at Skyfall, he couldn't bear the thought of anything else happening to her.

She looked over at Kincade and smiled. He really was a decent man. And he didn't seem to mind his new mission in life either.

Mallory thought that with everything that happened at Skyfall, neither she nor Kincade should be alone. It would be believable enough that they could blend in as an old married couple, off to retire by the seaside. M didn't mind very much, as he was a nice enough man and he seemed to be very protective of her. And she figured if she was going to have to face retirement, she could have been stuck with worse company. It was one idea of Mallory's that she could go along with.

It was her idea to have her new name be Emma. It would be easier on Kincade to remember and it was close enough to the title she'd been used to for so many years. What would take some time was getting used to living a normal life.

She pulled the scarf tighter around her neck as the seat warmer kicked in and she got cozy. She tangled her fingers in the fringe on the end. It was just like the one Kincade had given her at Skyfall. The original was lost in the fire, but he'd given her this one when she came out of hospital and she never stopped wearing it. A little fact she knew he was happy about because he always smiled when he saw her with it on.

She sighed as she looked out of the window, watching the hustle and bustle of the inner city slowly give way to the open fields and trees of the countryside. If she closed her eyes and inhaled at just the right moments, she could begin to smell the faint salt of the sea.

"Alright there, lass?"

She opened her eyes and turned to him. "Fine. Just… thinking."

"Oh? D'ya mind if I ask what about?"

"Nothing important, really. Just about… all this. Getting used to being a civilian again. Not knowing what James is up to. What mischief he's causing…"

Kincade chuckled. "Aye. He can be a bugger when it suits him."

Emma laughed. "Don't I know it."

"He's a good lad, though," he smiled, and she nodded her agreement.

He sighed, finally making the turn down the road that would lead them to their new home. Well, it wasn't brand new. They'd been there for about two months now. But it still felt a bit surreal for Emma. Kincade, bless him, was doing all he could to make sure she was comfortable, but it still wasn't the life she'd known all those years. She was used to being in the center of the action. Now she read the papers and stared at the headlines, knowing there was more to the stories than they'd ever tell, but what that something more was, she wasn't allowed to know. Not anymore.

It wasn't a total loss, though. She found she had less problems with stress and blood pressure and those sorts of things. And she found she had time for all the things she used to enjoy but never had time for, like gardening and going to the theatre. And one of the advantages of living in a fairly remote location was that they could do pretty much anything they wanted to without the worry of neighbors being fussy. Kincade took her out on several occasions and worked with her on her aim, something she'd always been the first to admit wasn't the best. But he was helping her through it. He was helping her through it all.

They pulled into the driveway at last and Emma turned to pluck her bag out of the backseat. Before she could reach for the doorhandle, Kincade was there, opening her door for her. She smiled and took his hand as he helped her out of the car. They both knew she didn't really need a hand up, but Kincade was the sort of man who still believed in old fashioned courtesy. Emma was the sort of woman who didn't particularly need it, but appreciated it when she got it.

Kincade shut her car door and grabbed the rest of their shopping out of the boot of the car before coming back around to escort Emma up the pathway and into their home.

After they'd taken off their hats and coats, they made their way to the kitchen and instinctively began putting away the shopping, moving effortlessly around each other as if they'd been going through the same routine for years and years. She handed him the things that went on the taller shelves of the pantry and in the places she couldn't quite reach. She was secretly grateful that he never made a crack at her height, though she half suspected that was because he was still a bit frightened of her temper.

He held out one of the bottles they'd bought earlier. "Should I leave this one? We look to be a bit low."

She glanced back at the bar. "I think so. We might have some tonight."

He nodded and set it out for the two of them, taking out two glasses while he was there. Then he walked back over to finish unpacking the rest of the bags.

She glanced up at him as he put the other bottle of scotch in the upper cabinet.

It surprised her how quickly she grew used to having him there by her side. She sometimes wondered if it felt odd to him as well.

There they were, two people who'd spent so many years dependent on no one but themselves, suddenly thrust into new identities, new lives… a new home where they'd live together. It took some adjustment at first. Having to get used to cooking for two… getting used to the smell of his pipe in the sitting room… buying enough scotch for the both of them. It had been a great many years since she'd had to share a living space with a man and she doubted Kincade had spent any length of time living with a woman. But somehow, it worked.

They both kept to themselves during the first couple of weeks, not really saying very much to one another. But as the initial awkwardness started to fade, they found they had more in common than they thought. They both loved wildlife and had a knack for gardening. They both had interesting stories to tell about James and Emma often found herself laughing heartily at some of the stories about James from his childhood. Over time, they found more and more to talk about, sometimes talking until the wee hours of the morning, both of them falling asleep in front of the fire. It was nice for both of them to have someone to talk to, to have someone to listen. They tended to stay away from topics like what Emma and James did for a living, but they got on chatting about so many other things, it hardly ever came up.

Once they'd put all the shopping away, they went back to their respective rooms (Kincade took one of the guest rooms, insisting that Emma have the master bedroom) to change into more relaxed clothing. Emma got into her usual pyjama top and bottoms, slipping her matching pewter silk robe over it all. Meanwhile, Kincaide opted for his usual tartan pyjamas and worn brown house loafers.

Kincade emerged first, heading for the kitchen. He noticed Emma still wasn't out of her room yet, so he figured as long as he was there, he may as well make a start on dinner. It was a bit chilly out, so he opted for beef stew, one of his specialties, and got started on that while he waited for her to come back.

Emma eventually rejoined him in the kitchen, once the smell of the stew lured her out of her room.

"I would have cooked. I think it was my night anyway," Emma said, sitting down at the table.

Kincade placed a bowl in front of her and ladled out a bit of stew. "Don't worry yourself, lass. It was no trouble."

"Thank you," she smiled.

They both ate and talked about various things, mostly planning things to do that week. Emma thought it would be a good idea to have a day at the beach or in the park. Just a day to be outdoors. She smiled as Kincade's face lit up at that prospect and she went on to suggest that they might sneak away to the zoo. She knew Kincade was passionate about animals and there were so many that he'd never had a chance to see in person. He smiled, touched that she remembered such a thing, and took her up on her offer.

Eventually, they moved into the sitting room, their conversation having shifted to more personal things like what hobbies they enjoyed when they were younger and their experiences with James.

Kincade let out a hearty laugh and poked the fire around a bit.

"I can't believe that… no wait. I can, actually," she laughed and sipped her scotch.

Kincade chuckled. "Just don't tell him I told you. I won't hear the end of it."

Emma tilted her head and leaned back against the arm of the couch. Her legs were stretched out across the cushions and crossed at the ankles. Kincade sat in the large armchair nearer to the fire.

"Maybe it's because I've only ever known him as an adult… he never did mention much about his personal life. But somehow I just can't picture James as a boy."

"He was a rowdy little lad. Always into mischief in school. But I think it was boredom, mostly." He sipped his scotch. "He wasn't terribly troublesome when he was with me… out with the dogs or running the fields. He wasn't one for rules. He liked freedom."

Emma nodded. "I can tell you that's one trait that carried over into his adult years."

Kincade chuckled. "When he first got interested in guns and the like, he made me teach him how to hunt. He spent hours in the fields, learning how each gun fired… in fact…" he got up. "I think I've a picture somewhere. He never let me take very many, but… I think I've got one."

He put his scotch on the table and went up to his bedroom to find the old album.

Emma took another sip of scotch and leaned her head back, a light chuckle bubbling out of her as she imagined James in an open field trying to fire a gun bigger than he was.

Kincade came back after a few minutes with the book in his hand. "He must have been about… oh eleven here…" he trailed off when he looked up to see the scene in front of him.

Emma had nodded off on the couch.

Her features lit softly by the firelight, her soft white hair seeming to have a glow of its own.

He walked over and carefully took the glass from her hands and set it quietly on the table beside her. He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it gently over her, lifting her head just slightly to slip a pillow under her neck.

He smiled. "Goodnight, Emma." He stood and began to make his way back to his armchair.

He stopped.

He turned and quietly made his way back over to her, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep well," he whispered. He walked over and settled down in his chair, pulling his robe tighter around him and closing his eyes to sleep as the fire died down.

Her eyes fluttered open and her lips curled into a soft smile.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

She nuzzled into her pillow and slowly drifted off, the smile never leaving her face.


End file.
